


Out of Orbit

by JoMarch, RyoSen



Series: Exit Strategy [8]
Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 04:26:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1674650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoMarch/pseuds/JoMarch, https://archiveofourown.org/users/RyoSen/pseuds/RyoSen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Author:  RyoSen, not JoMarch</p><p>The morning after the night before.  Sequel to Jo March's fabulous Exit Strategy: Pros and Cons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of Orbit

**Author's Note:**

> Spoilers: Somebody's Going to Emergency, Somebody's Going to Jail.
> 
> Disclaimer: Aaron Sorkin's playground. I'm just visiting.
> 
> Thanks: To Jo, for kicking off this mini-saga, and for giving me such a wonderful starting point for this one (even if it did ruin my plans for the day). Also, for the real life support.

During my excessively long rehabilitation period, I read a lot of physics books. Donna claims I was temporarily obsessed. She may be right.  
But I think, looking back, that I understand why: The Theory of Everything is less complicated than the emotional fallout of nearly being killed by bigots.

Anyway, I remember reading a fascinating article about Sirius. Dogstar, the brightest star in the night sky. Astronomers have proven than Sirius is not one star, but two stars that rotate around each other.

What a beautiful image.

It stuck with me, that article, and I didn't know why until last night. Donna and I orbit each other. We are inextricably linked, endlessly circling each other. I didn't understand why our gravitational pull was so strong until last night either. Turns out, our chemistry is utterly explosive.

I've been with my share of women (just call me Josh Lyman, Ladykiller), but those relationships were transient. To further abuse the metaphor, those women were comets temporarily bending towards me, then grazing past. In other words, I didn't invest much because I was always waiting for the comets to continue on their way.

Last night, when I kissed Donna -- when she kissed me back -- it was like that moment when the telescope slides into focus and you can suddenly see the heavens, bright and clear.

It was amazing. And even with the gravity of the situation, we joked around a bit. We wouldn't be us if we didn't. And then we went to bed. Pick your cliche: the earth moved, the angels wept. However you phrase it, Donna and I together are perfect.

Three years of verbal foreplay, plus one astounding night together, and I am completely gone. I've given up all pretense. I adore Donnatella Moss. And it feels, you know, permanent. I think it could... Well, I may be in love with her. I would put the probability at about 98 percent.

But there's this niggling... It's not doubt, but something Donna said last night is bothering me. She's lying here beside me sleeping peacefully, and I'm worrying because she said she wanted to talk to me. In my defense, I'm not just being paranoid; that's how all the comets started their "I'm taking my sparkly space dust and leaving" speeches.

Donna can't leave me. We orbit each other.

I can hear the faraway chirping of a cellphone and decide to ignore it. National crises be damned -- if it's important, they'll keep trying. Donna doesn't stir, and the ringing eventually stops.

But because this is my incredibly bad karma we're talking about, it starts again just as I relax. National emergency. Dammit.

I bow to the inevitable and slide out of bed, although it physically pains me to leave Donna. In fact, her arm is stretched out towards me, her pale skin glowing against the blue sheets. I can't help it; I lean back and place a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

Then I yank on my boxers -- I mean, I can't answer my phone naked; what if it's Leo? -- and grab the phone from the hardwood floor.

"Josh Lyman," I answer quietly, heading into the living room so I don't wake Donna. There's only silence on the other end. "Hello?" I try again.

"Joshua?" CJ asks. She sounds strange.

"Yeah," I answer. "What's up?"

"What's up?" she echoes, her voice getting louder and, to be honest, scarier.

I grin at the couch, just because I am ridiculously happy. "CJ, are you just going to repeat everything I say, or--"

"Please tell me you and Donna accidentally swapped phones," CJ interrupts.

The many jokes that leap to mind die sudden, painful deaths when I catch her meaning. "I answered Donna's phone," I guess.

"Yes," CJ answers. "At 9:30 on a Sunday morning."

"Why are you calling Donna -- Hell, why are you calling anyone at 9:30 on a Sunday morning, anyway?" Maybe I can distract her.

"Joshua," she warns.

Drat. Misdirection never works with CJ.

"Yes?" I ask in a small voice.

"Why are you at Donna's at 9:30 on a Sunday morning?"

I hesitate, but can't come up with much. It's worth a try, though. "How do you know I'm at--"

"Josh, please. I called your house. Then I called your cell. And then I called Donna's cell and you miraculously answer? So, what, you heard the cellphone both times and thought it was the same one? A national emergency or something, so you answered without checking whose phone it was?"

Dammit.

"Yeah," I admit. Government issue cellphones have identical rings. Why can't I remember this information when it would actually be useful?

"So?" CJ prompts angrily.

"So what?"

"Why the hell are you at Donna's at 9:30 on a Sunday morning?" she yells.

"Okay, please tell me you're not in the office right now."

"I'm in my car," she answers. "Which I will point in the direction of Donna's apartment if you don't answer my damn question."

"No!" I yelp. "Don't come here!" Oh, for the love of -- Why am I such an idiot? She had no proof of my whereabouts until that smooth move.

On the other end of the phone, CJ makes a noise that can only be described as a whimper. "Why didn't you call me?"

"What?"

"I'm your first phone call, Joshua," she points out. She's still shouting.

"First of all, I didn't get out of bed--"

"Oh, God."

"--until you called. And second..." I pause, stymied.

"Well argued," CJ answers caustically. "Put Donna on."

"She's still asleep," I say. And, yes, I'm grinning again.

"You're an idiot," CJ mutters.

"What? Why am I an idiot?"

"'She's still asleep,'" CJ mimics. "Like that's proof of your sexual prowess."

"I never said anything about--"

"Please, Josh, you should hear yourself right now."

"I'm just..." I shrug. "I'm happy, you know?"

CJ is silent for a long moment, and when she answers, it's in a far softer tone. "I'm glad, Josh. Really. Just please tell me you had a conversation and didn't just, you know, jump each other's bones."

"CJ!"

"Tell me you explained to each other how you feel, discussed the many, many complications, and then made a rational decision to pursue a romantic, you know, entanglement."

Hmmm. We probably should have done all that. But I think we made our feelings clear in our usual oblique way. "Sort of," I answer finally.

"So she made a decision?" CJ asks.

"A decision?" I echo, puzzled. "About us? Yeah, I would read her enthusiastic--"

"Josh!" CJ interrupts, horrified. "Quit it! I meant about school."

I blink stupidly at Donna's perfectly organized bookshelf. "Huh?"

CJ is quiet for a minute, then says in a rush, "Hey, I've interrupted you and I should really go--"

"CJ, what are you talking about?" I ask, my tone dangerous.

"Nothing."

"CJ!"

"Yeah?"

"School?"

"You should really talk--"

"CJ!"

She sighs. "Donna was considering going back to school. You know, to finish up her degree."

It takes me a moment to digest that. So Donna wants her degree. I think that's wonderful. But why didn't she tell me? "Okay," I manage. "I guess that would be kind of hard, with her hours..." I trail off, because I'm starting to understand.

"Josh," CJ says in this pitying tone.

There was something last night -- something in the kitchen. Donna kept glancing away from me. I half run into the kitchen and look around. Then my gaze falls on the pile of envelopes resting on the table.

"I've got to go," I tell CJ, my voice hushed.

"Josh--"

I hang up and turn the phone off. Then, my hands shaking, I reach for the applications and read the address labels written in Donna's semi-legible scrawl.

University of California-Berkeley. Stanford. New York University. University of Texas. Northwestern.

And I finally understand.

Last night wasn't about a beginning. Last night was Donna's way of saying good-bye to me.

Donna is leaving me.

I stand there, staring down at the envelopes for what seems like hours.

And then I head for the hallway to grab my clothes.

I have to get out of here.

***

I blame this entirely on CJ. She's the one who put ideas in my head -- Well, okay, that was Joey Lucas originally. But CJ gave me the impression that Donna was confused about this... thing between us too. And all the while, CJ knew Donna was planning on leaving me.

One night with me, and then she leaves for a better life somewhere else.

God, I've got to get out of here.

I find my jeans halfway down the hallway and pull them on. I grab my cellphone -- I left Donna's in the kitchen with her Get Me the Hell Away From Josh Lyman college applications -- and stuff it in my pocket. Now, to locate my shirt.

Dammit. My karma strikes again -- it's got to be in Donna's bedroom.

Where Donna is. Sleeping. Gorgeous and sleeping and all the while planning to leave me.

How could she do this to me?

I take a fortifying breath and peek into her room; she's still asleep, thank God. I make as little noise as possible while hunting for my sweater. I finally find it halfway underneath the bed. Being that close to her is almost enough to weaken my resolve to leave -- maybe I should just enjoy this for as long as I can.

I can just live in the moment; this can be an affair. An office affair no less. And then she can break my heart tomorrow or next week or in a couple of months.

But all I can see is the image of these binary stars orbiting each other, and I can't stand it. This thing with Donna, it's not an affair. It's not transient. Not for me, anyway. Maybe if I leave now, this won't kill me.

I grab my sweater and turn to leave.

Which is when my cellphone rings, loudly in the silence of her bedroom.

I fumble in my pants for the phone.

"Josh?" Donna asks, her voice husky from sleep.

I freeze. I don't think I can handle this right now, Donna ripping her gorgeous star away from me. "Yeah?" I say, but I can't turn around. I can't face her.

She doesn't answer, and my phone keeps on ringing. Fuck it. I'm not answering it right now.

It finally stops, and I hear the sheets rustling. "You're leaving," Donna says quietly.

I can hear the hurt in her voice -- I wonder if she can hear the devastation in mine -- and I succumb to her gravity. I turn slowly, and my whole body aches when I catch sight of her. She has pulled my white t-shirt on, and it's huge on her. She's gorgeous.

"CJ called," I say by way of explanation. "I--" I shrug. I have no idea where to start. "She mentioned you were thinking of going back to school."

Donna pales, which I didn't think was possible, then pulls herself out of bed to face me. It occurs to me that I am naked from the waist up, and all she's wearing is an oversized t-shirt. If only I didn't know she was leaving me, we could go back to doing what we've just discovered we're so incredibly good at.

Across the bed from me, Donna nods. "Yes, I've been considering it."

"In California," I say. "Or New York. Or Texas."

"They're good schools." She sounds strange. "For a political science degree."

It's my turn to nod stupidly. "You don't want to go to Georgetown?" Pathetic, yes, but it's my way of asking her to stay.

Donna glances down, displaying a sudden, inexplicable interest in the pale blue sheets. She fingers the edge absently. "I did well at Madison, but..." she shrugs. "I'm not sure I'd get in to Georgetown."

Does that mean she wants to stay? "Donna, you work at the White House. I think that might count as on-the-job experience."

She meets my eyes and gives me a small smile. "True."

An awkward silence falls. What am I supposed to say to that? Her answer was completely noncommittal.

I shift my weight nervously. "Donna, I thought you agreed with me about Joey Lucas--"

"Don't," Donna orders, glaring at me. "Not yet. Not while--" She stops talking, but gestures around the room.

I stare at her, uncomprehending. "I thought she was right," I say, bewildered.

"Do we have to do this now?" Donna all but yells. "And here? After we--" Donna crosses her arms over her chest. "You should go."

"You're kicking me out?" I ask, incredulous.

"Yes," she answers. "We shouldn't talk about this now."

"Right," I say sarcastically. "Because it's a good idea for us to sleep together and then not talk about it."

"Josh, this was -- I understand why you did this. I do. But I don't really want to hash this out right now." She gives me a pleading look. "Can't we just enjoy today? Can't you break--" Her gaze skitters away and she shakes her head. "Can't we go back to boss and assistant later?"

We're going back to boss and assistant? Why does that prospect make me ill? "So this was just a..." I shrug, "a one night stand?"

Her eyes are sparkling at me, and I realize belatedly that she is trying not to cry. "Sure," she agrees.

I take a step towards her. "Donna," I whisper. "Why are you crying?"

"Why do you think?" she yells. "We should never have done this. We've ruined everything."

Stung, I stand there, one hand still outstretched. "I don't think--"

"Josh," Donna interrupts. "We should pretend this never happened. You should go to Joey and be happy, and never tell her that--"

"What?" I yell. I can't help it -- go to Joey Lucas? "Donna, what the hell are you talking about?"

She stares at me. "Joey Lucas. You told me, Josh."

I am shaking my head. "I told you what she said?"

"While you were drunk," she nods. "Well, you started to, but I -- you didn't really finish it. But I understand, Josh. It's fine, really."

Finally, I start to understand what the hell she's talking about. She honestly thinks I want Joey Lucas? "Donna, I don't know what I said, exactly, but I don't want Joey Lucas."

Donna's brow furrows. "Yes, you do. You were going to call your mother."

I know this is absolutely the wrong time to laugh, but I can't help it. We are the two stupidest people on earth.

Donna glares at me. "Why are you laughing?" she demands angrily. "Josh!"

"No!" I say, but I'm still snickering. "We're just--"

"You are an arrogant bastard," Donna says, then pushes past me and heads out to the living room.

My fit of amusement leaves me abruptly, and I follow right behind her. "Donna, wait -- you completely misunderstood the Joey Lucas thing. I--"

"You like her, Josh," she interrupts. "I'm happy for you. Really."

"I don't like Joey Lucas!" I argue.

"Fine," Donna whirls around, and I nearly run into her. She glares up at me. "You're in love with her, then. I wish you the best."

"Donna, dammit!" I yell, grabbing her hand when she tries to pull away. "I'm not in love with Joey Lucas! I'm in love with you!"

Oops.

I stare at her. She stares at me. We are both breathing hard from all the fighting. And then our gravity takes over again, and we are kissing. Like a supernova.

Explosive and passionate and completely uncontrollable.

Donna winds her arms around my neck, and I drop my sweater and grab her. Her hands are tugging at my jeans, and we still orbit each other.

All thoughts of leaving each other are gone.

At least for now.

THE END

03.04.01


End file.
